


Words won't suffice

by nrr



Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: Flower Crowns, Fluff, M/M, timid jester cuz again why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29447865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nrr/pseuds/nrr
Summary: With untold feeling, the Jester decided to write for the one, although he knew that words won't suffice at all. Mishap happened.
Relationships: Jester/Leper (Darkest Dungeon)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Words won't suffice

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.  
> Have you get any flowers or chocolate, maybe given to someone?  
> I got a chance to give a bouquet to my dead HWM yesterday :')

When the day fall into a night and the bonfire was lit amist the cold wind of the Weald, the lute and its bard started to sing lullaby for their men and one woman to pass through another tiring day before their sleep.

Then the Jester asked out of the blue, interrupting his own song, to who he didn't mind, "Shall I write it in the letter?"

"That's SO sweet!", the woman's eyes sparked up under the shady hat of hers. "Someone's in love, huh? For the special day?" question after question, the Grave Robber asked, fully invested in other's affair like always, "To who are you sending to, clown boy?"

"That's..." the Jester's voice trailed off, hands fidgeting uncomfortably on his quiet lute.

But the Bounty Hunter blurted out, "Writing a is too much hassle," as he stirred the boiling pot, looking for more meat to feed the whining woman, "There's nothing romantic about letter."

"Oh, hush, atta boy. You who know nothing about love," the Grave Robber argued. She seemed largely dissapointed with his honesty and wanting to say more, but nonetheless, kept her arms crossed and mouth shut as the bowl of beef was shoved to her face.

Displeased and unappeased, so the fool turned his face to the Leper and, again, repeated, "Shall I try to get it down?"

In which he solemnly replied, "Sincere words are always welcome to one's heart," as he halved the bread with him.

The latter was very much more appealing to him. Thinking to himself that the answer was very much like the Leper, he loved it.  
The Jester smiled ever so slightly, taking the half off his hand, "You're kind." The small giggle that soon followed after made the taller man's heart leapt as he quietly munched on the dried bread, the most gentle and loveliest voice his ears had ever heard, it soothed his weary soul.

At that moment, the whole world and all else that surrounded him were so dazzling and soft all at the same time, even the brigand's blood that spilled everywhere seemed so mild and meant nothing to him. 

Too sudden and unprepared, unaware of how fast his own heart beated. The man's lovable face and quiet voice had became matter more in his life within just brief and few seconds.

And that was when he decided, his heart shall belong to this man.

The worst day, today, he deemed. The day when men and women would roam around the town with roses and rings in their pockets and hands, a tiring sight.

To get away from the bustling crowd in the tavern, cheering for love and sobbing on ales, to get away far from the unneeded words from the abbey's monks, preaching endlessly a lesson of women and men, the Leper chose to travel alone, afar deep into the woods with nothing, but a tin flute in his hands as he gently blowed his breath into it along the way of his aimless journey. Sometimes larks would join in for the fun.

Away from the people, lonesome in the quiet woods.

Solitude wasn't what he craved at all, but he wasn't much of a people-person as the other made him ought to be also. He was just a mere man who often lost in his own world as he strolled through the unpaved dirt road until he could find a perfect log to sit down on. If only he could have someone to share this loneliness with...

The Leper laid all of his weight on the wood, playing the flute on the log of the darker color, matching his tune playfully with the sweet bird's tweet in harmony.  
Not many people stopped by to realized and appreciate for what the nature has offered to them and unlike them, he did and greatly grateful for it.  
Listening to the chirping sounds of different kinds of larks that were gathering around to sing, he loved it. Swaying along with the northern blowing wind, the shroud he wore, also this, he loved it.  
The slow and peaceful day, today, he redeemed. Idle the Leper, he didn't move nor rather do anything else, just rigidly sat there, letting time to slowly pass by with melodies and nature keeping him company.

But peace didn't last long as larks stopped to sing and replaced their songs with panicking shrieks as they all flew off bushes and branches. One of them, the black crow, flew off with letter scribbled with words in its beak, not an unusual sight, but it did seem strange to him.  
He dropped the flute as an unwanted presence of an unknown was approaching.

"Damn bird, theif! You dare steal from me?!" a shout and a bells jingled, a figure of a man abruptly emergerd from behind the bush. It was him, the bard of his expedition team, the Jester. Covered in twigs and thorns, face exposed and slightly scraped, he was chasing for something.  
Shortly, the upset fool then noticed another man who was sitting on the log, the man was startled as to how and why did this Jester, out of all the people, was fooling around here.

After a long pause of surprise and seeing how shocked the fool was, the Leper gained back his composure and greeted him politely, "Greeting," trying to be formal.

But the Jester, like a feral cat, kept himself hidden behind the bush still. The never before seen timid expression on his unmasked face made it much more harder to build up a conversation with him, even in the dungeon where the mask was on, there rarely a time they spoke a word to each other.

Decided not to approach near, he asked from where he sat, "Were you looking for something?"

The Jester nodded, troubled, knowing that it would be rude to not interact with the man, a royal, so unwillingly he answered, "I do."

"May I ask what it is? Perhaps I can help you find it," said the Leper as he watched another man slowly crawled out of the bush.

In his scrawny hands that were carefully cupping many lovely little posies consisted of many colors, piling on top of each others, there were too many of them as he couldn't hold them all and some were even clumsily fall off his arms, leaving a trail of white, red and yellow as he walked. The Jester seemed pretty embarassed as evidenced on his reddish cheeks, having things that were unlikely of him to hold. What an unusual sight to see.

"A paper," he mumbled, face hid behind the posies pile, "a crow stole my paper."

"A paper? A crow?" the Leper repeated after. He recalled the brief moment of encountering the one suspicious crow earlier, "I think I saw it."

The Jester quickly perked up his head, eyes sparked hopefully, later then hung down lower, dull with hopelessness. Though the cap's sleeves covered it as he hunched his back over, his face went deeper shade of red as he asked, "Did you read it?"

Truthfully, the Leper shook his head then he heard a relieved sigh coming from the fool, "I did not," he added before lightly patting the log's space beside him, inviting the fool to take a seat, "Is it important?"  
For neither think they'll ever had a chance to trace after the crow, best for the fool was to give up and rewrite a new one.

The Jester let out a breath he had held in for a short while. The question made him think for a moment, uncertain in his heart of the paper's importance. It was or was it not? The heartfelt letter he wrote from impulse for the one. As he sat down beside the taller man, he weighed its value a bit in his mind before sadly answered him, "It is to me, but not to the one receive it."

"Why is it not? I am sure that they would treasure your letter dearly, if it were to be handed to them," he tilted his head to get a better look on the Jester's naked face behind those cap's sleeves. As expected, he was frowning from distress, contrasted with the cheeks which were lightly painted red from being flustered.

The Leper's words and glance made his heart ran a thousand miles, exhausted and pounding fast. He didn't stare back into those eyes, but he knew just how intense the man was looking at him right now. His face was heating up, hands fiddled and mingled with everything on his lap as anxious and glee welcomed in his mind, thinking of many possibilities 'the receiver' may relay back to him in his head, a bitter one, a lovely one, "Do you think he will?" he let his questioning thought spilled.

Chuckled the Leper. A question as innocent as this wasn't expected to be coming out of such a grim looking man as him at all. But when the fool mentioned the person a male, somehow the Leper felt like that it could be him and he wouldn't hate it, if it turned out to be true, in fact he... he might be more than just accepting if it was.  
But what were the chances?  
So, now, that he had finally holding a proper conversation with the Jester, he wasn't going to let this opportunity went to waste as he decided to initiate more on the matter, "How could one not appreciate the other's earnest feeling especially on the day as special as this, hm?"

The fool looked at him, a mixture of being ridiculed and sunken sorrow on his face, "Not everyone is as kind as you," again, the Jester mumbled to himself in his low voice, almost as quiet as a whisper.

And the conversation died down... yet. The Leper curiously pointed out with a smile to those heap of posies on the Jester's lap in an attemp to lighten up the mood. Still a strange sight to see, the Jester and flowers. He noticed that most of them were knitted and twisted together into long ropes of some sort, "What were you going to do with that many of flower?"

"Oh? These?" the fool held it high, this one was braided with just red posies, "A flower crown maybe," he answered, straightforwardly, in contradiction with tembly hands of his which twined and tweaked their thinly long stems together. "It's a way to calm my heart, I suppose," but that was a lie he told as the silly heart in his chest skipped beats much faster and louder than ever. 

Profusely sweating as he talked, it wasn't as calm as he claimed it to be at all, how could one be when the man was this close?

But unconsciously, the corner of his mouth twitched, a light-hearted grin appeared as memories of many brats popped up in his head, "It's remind me of little kids, I made these for their birthdays all the time," anxious pushed his mouth to blabber on, but the smile lingered still, "It was the only thing they touch, and wasn't immediately destroyed."

When the Leper didn't reply back immediately, the fool laughed nervously to cover the burning shame of his and a silent awkward after reminiscing something so unnecessary about himself. The man just kept staring quietly at those quivering hands of the Jester that were gently braiding flowers into a crown, no word came out.

Oh, Light. Did he talk too much? Did this man think he's a madman? Or perhaps did he prefer him to shut his mouth? Or did he-

"I did not know that you also have this lovely side of yours," the Leper interrupted his doomed thoughts. His voice got the impression of a mixture between surprised and in awe for the more he listened, the more he learned about him and the more his interest in this Jester grew. "Am I the only one who has the right to know this?" with a wide grin, the Leper asked jokingly, so unlikely of him to tease the other.

The statement made the Jester's face flushed mad red, perfectly matching the posies in his hands. His brows furrowed, eyes averted as he shyly muttered an honest reply, "You're the first one," his hands continued to knit the posies together despite the shaking.

"Oh, alright," somehow the unexpected seriousness in the answer was so adorable that left the Leper speechless.  
Was he not glad that the first and only to see the Jester like this was him? He sure was.

Now that the conversation had been down and dead for sure this time, the Leper let his companion back to mingle with his craft while he himself trying his best not to disturb him with any more chit-chatting nor absurd questions he had in mind.

The woods was a tad too quiet for him and he preferred not to let silence made the whole atmosphere getting too awkward than it already was, so he picked the flute up and asked if the Jester would mind if he were to make sounds out of it.

"I don't mind, rather I would love to hear you play," he said with a small tilted of his head and a little twist on the corner of his lips, eyes still fixed on the neatly knitted red posies in his hands as if he was expecting him to ask all along.

Glad and glee with the Jester's reply, so, eagerly, the song of flute had began.  
Almost seemed magical, the first note invited back the larks to come and flap their wings to bushes and branches to gather around and sing along once again, then the second note grasped the fool's eyes and ears, drawing those to him. The lively, joyful tune along with the bird's sweet tweets joined in unison as if a large band was performing their carol. The woods was no longer a silent world.

Was this how it felt to be alive in a world of peace and serenity?  
It was dreamy, the Jester deemed their song and the moment he lived in to be. Just one note the Leper breathed in could make him float away where he lay, though his eyes tended to focus more on the lips that was gently kissing and blowing in life to the flute.

The Leper parted mouth from the flute after a while of noticing a timid glance directed to him, "Do you want to try?" he asked, handing him the instrument after cleaning off his own germ.

The Jester nodded meekly before accepting the offer in his open palms.  
This wasn't what he had in mind, but, oh, well, anything to get close to you and your lips, my lord.

After grasping a few basic tips and how to, which wasn't too hard to follow, he gently stroked the long flute, feeling where each of his scrawny fingers should be, cropping the warmth that the Leper left on it before blowing in his hot breath.

It was gentle, the melody this fool played. These were familiar notes and rhythms of a song he can't get out. The Leper recognized the nameless ballard which the Jester always sang on his lute as it was translated to the flute's language clearly.

"Your lute's lick?" he asked, listening to the song attentively as he humming along, "You are pretty good, hm?"

The fool nodded as his face became red hot not just from the lack of air, but also from how boiled his blood from the compliment the Leper gave him. He finished the song without parting his lips nor drawing in breath and now desperately panting for air. He just wanted to show off his never before seen flute skill to the man, that was all.  
"Here," he handed the flute back, wiped clean, wondering if the man was impressed, yet he dare not looking up for the gaze of approval. Words of praising alone was enough to satisfy his ego and heart so why seek more?

"Now, in an exchange, you must teach me how to make a flower crown," grinned the Leper as he took the flute from the man's shaking hand, cleaning it again.

"But won't it be too boring?" yet he already spared him some posies and eagerly starting a new one for him to see.

"No, no. It looks interesting to me," twisted and twined, he followed, "Beside, I want to learn more about you."

"Likewise," he nodded as the cap's sleeves fall and covered his entire face, probably heating up, again.

Trial and error, knitting flowers wasn't as easy as the Jester made it ought to be, the strength in hands of his kept twisting the stem too hard, it severed. But with the fool's constant cheering and his will to make one, in the end, labor would bear fruit, practice would make perfect, he finally finished the first crown.

"You seems to be very invested in it," the fool said with eyes locked on the Leper's proud face and the pure white crown with green leaves and vines tangled that he held up high.

"Who would not enjoy looking at beautiful things?" he noticed many swollen prints as the ray of sun shone through its fragile petals and quietly mumbled, "Well, not mine."

"It's look plenty lovely to me," the Jester flattered him. Anything the Leper do, the fool will always find them beautiful.

But slowly and gently, he placed down the crown on his lap, its bruised petals were all turned to dried and rotten pieces as time festered on them. A somber frown plastered as weary thought came out his mouth, "Like these flowers, someday I shall wilted away and be forgotten with time," and that would wipe the smile right from the fool's face as he perked his head up and met eyes with the man, "just like everyone, they will forget and you will, too."

The shallow breath the Leper exhaled out tugging his heartstrings. Oh, poor thing, was this worry his mind all day and night, scared of being forget? Was this the presence of loneliness he felt?

"Can I be close to you?" without consent given back to the question, the Jester climbed up on the log, straddling on it, speaking words of cheering to the Leper, "But knowing that the flowers lived a short life, yet trying their best to bloom elegantly and please those who passed by, I think that's what made them so precious and memorable, no?" a little forced smile shown on his face as he awkwardly placing the posy crowns on the taller man's head, the Leper's first and the loveliest and the most delicate one out of the bunch he twined.

The white, bruised posies complimented well with his all velvet red crown. The two colors blended in together with an addition of green to help the red and white very much, more noticeable. Graceful and close to kingly, the Leper before him, he couldn't help but admire the majestic sight, although a tad lonely and fragile.

And without any warning given, out of sympathy and feeling he had for the man, the Jester threw his arms around the Leper's lonesome back, hugging him loosely, hoping to ease away some of his loneliness, "I won't forget you. However hard I tried, I can never forget you." And out of the blue, the Jester subtly, quietly muttered the confession to his ear, "You're the one that I adore, that's why," before resting his flared bright face on the man's shoulder, waiting to be pushed away.

But to the Jester's surprise, instead of being rejected right away, he felt his body shifting closer toward the Leper as the man reeled in his smaller body by the waist, tightening their loosen embrace. "You are too easy," said the Leper, a wide and unseen grin buried in the Jester's chest, replacing the earlier somber frown. In there, he felt many things, the falling posies, the cold bells and the silly heart of the fool that was drumming, pounding and realized that his own heart was also beating the same rhyme.

"And you're too kind," whispered back the fool to the larger man, enjoying every seconds of this magical moment. His breath, his warmth, his words, all for himself, surely he will cherish these sacred things for the rest of his life. "Truly, you really are too kind," as he gently tugged the Leper in to his embrace more.

In that moment between the two, the whole world and all else that surrounded them were so fuzzy and mild all at the same time, even the larks started to take flight and away from their peaceful little world, leaving only them to reside in.

Reluctantly, the Leper was the first one to let go of his warmth, carefully adjusting the flowers that the Jester crowned him, "I hope you meant it, those words."

"Doubtful, are we? Don't take me for a liar," "I meant it, every single word," the Jester smiled again, eyes still averted from his, though those rosy red cheeks were painted just for him to see, "So can I get any respond?"

"Was my answer not obvious?"

"I want to hear it from your mouth, please," requested nicely the fool as he leaned in closer. His gaze shyly made its way to the Leper's, an adorable, meaningful gaze.

"Pardon me then," so he said before brushing away those unkempt cap's sleeves for a quick peck on the warm cheek, leaving the Jester frozen, later melting, and speechless. The Leper parted a millimeter away, the crowns of his touching the fool's forehead lightly, lovingly. Seeing so, the Leper would grin again widely, saying, "Who needs words when you got an action, hm?"

And the next second, the moment the realization came to him, the kissed cheek was now burning with flame and later the said flame, like a wildfire, would spread all across his face, tainting everything red and hot. "Words... won't suffice at all, it seems," told meekly and weakly the Jester with face flushed madly which he no longer tried to hide it.

"You made me wonder of what was in the paper," as he stood up from the log and asked the fool to join hand with his, in which he gladly accepted it.

Face to face, the Jester looked at him with eyes opened wide, entirely forgot about it, "Oh, that," then he just slowly shook his head as nonsense profane words he spilled with inks on the paper came back to mind, followed with a sweet laughter that used to make the Leper's heart lept a yard, now a mile.

The two, together, side by side, walking deeper into where the field were painted gold and the trees were filled with memories.

"Of the feelings never told," replied solemnly the Jester to the Leper with a smile lovingly plastered on his face.

With quiet whispers of love along with the flute's soothing tune, the woods was no longer a silent world.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration: Bloom - The Paper Kites  
> This song somehow slipped into my metal/rock and hardbass playlist.


End file.
